The lift rattled back up to the surface.
Aren stepped out, dusted in faint traces of void energy, his clothes marked by cracks where the ogre's shockwave hit earlier. Kane followed behind him, jaw clenched, posture rigid.
But before either of them could speak—
A squad of soldiers surrounded them.
Crossbows raised. Armor gleaming. Emblems of the Fortress City Council stamped across their chests.
Kane stiffened.
"…Already?"
The lead soldier stepped forward.
"Elite Recruit Aren. By order of the City Council, you are to come with us for immediate evaluation."
Aren frowned. "Evaluation for what?"
The soldier didn't blink.
"For your existence."
Kane stepped between them instantly.
"He just completed a dangerous dungeon mission. He needs rest."
The soldier held out a sealed document.
"This comes from the Council's High Chair.
Non-compliance will be viewed as threat-level behavior."
Aren watched Kane's expression shift—controlled, but grim.
"…Aren," Kane said quietly, "you should go."
Aren nodded once.
He wasn't afraid.
But the tension in the air told him this wasn't a simple debriefing.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The soldiers escorted Aren through the fortified inner city, past mana towers and ironwatch cannons aimed outward at the skyline.
Whispers followed them.
"That's the Forbidden Tier kid…"
"He's dangerous?"
"Is he being arrested or recruited?"
They entered the Council Citadel—a colossal black-steel fortress carved into a cliffside, reinforced by shimmering barriers.
Aren was taken into a circular chamber lit by floating crystals. Six figures sat at a stone table, each one radiating authority.
Kane wasn't allowed inside.
Aren stood alone.
The High Chair, an elderly woman with silver hair and sharp eyes, tapped the table.
"State your name."
"Aren."
"Profession?"
"Void Archer."
"Rank?"
"Unique."
The Council members exchanged looks.
One of them, a Commander in obsidian armor, leaned forward.
"Your Evaluation Crystal result labeled you as 'Forbidden Tier.'
Do you know what that means?"
"No."
"That makes two of us," another muttered.
A woman in researcher robes flicked her fingers, projecting Aren's dungeon data into the air.
"Let's review what we do know."
Images flickered:
The mutated creatures dissolving into void residue.
Aren's multi-teleport arrow.
The ogre imploding inward unnaturally.
A spike of mana so violent it cracked dungeon walls.
The room grew colder.
"Void energy is not native to our world," the researcher said. "It predates us. Predates the Demon Apocalypse. It is older than recorded history."
Another Councilor spoke sharply:
"You used it naturally. Instinctively.
That should be impossible."
Aren stayed silent.
The silver-haired High Chair studied him more carefully.
"…Aren. During your awakening, did you hear or feel anything unusual?"
Aren hesitated.
He remembered the whisper in the dungeon.
The pressure during his awakening.
The violet eye.
But telling them would only make things worse.
So he said,
"No."
The High Chair exhaled through her nose, unconvinced.
"Very well. For now, your classification will remain restricted."
A seal flashed into existence before Aren.
'Observed Threat Status: Amber.'
'Surveillance Assigned.'
Aren frowned. "Surveillance?"
A Councilor folded his arms.
"Understand this:
People with unknown powers cause disasters.
Cities fall because of anomalies.
We cannot risk another catastrophe."
Aren clenched his fist.
So that's what they saw him as.
Not a student.
Not a warrior.
A potential collapse.
The High Chair raised a hand.
"Enough. He is not our enemy yet."
Yet.
The word echoed like a blade.
"Escort Aren back to the Academy," she ordered. "And Kane… will be held responsible for his actions."
Aren's stomach dropped.
Kane?
Held responsible for him?
The doors opened.
Aren didn't look back.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Outside, Kane was waiting.
The moment he saw Aren, he let out a tense breath.
"You're alive. Good."
"They classified me," Aren said quietly.
"I know." Kane's expression darkened. "But you need to understand something, Aren. That classification? It's not for your protection."
Aren looked up.
"They're scared of you," Kane said. "They fear what they don't understand."
Aren exhaled slowly.
"What now?"
Kane glanced toward the Academy.
"Now? You train. You grow. And you keep yourself from becoming a puppet—or a threat."
He turned.
"Come. Elite Class is waiting."
But as Aren followed, the ground beneath the city trembled faintly—no one noticing the vibrations except him.
Far below, a violet eye reopened.
The chained dragon growled.
"They fear you… good. Fear will break them first."
The chains cracked.
"And when you rise…
I will rise with you."